


Molly and the Mysterious Case of a Spontaneous Sherlock

by kittymsmith



Series: Random Snippets that are Hopefully Funny of Two Dorks In Love: Sherlock and Molly [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff, breaking and entering isn't a crime if your girlfriend says its okay, london rains a lot, molly is a patient soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymsmith/pseuds/kittymsmith
Summary: Molly, reasonably, didn’t quite know how to react. It was Sherlock, but she didn’t expect breaking and entering until a little further than 6 months in the relationship-----In which Molly finds out why Sherlock is naked on her couch.





	Molly and the Mysterious Case of a Spontaneous Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

> A fluffy boy for you all!
> 
> Thank you many much for any comments or kudos, y'all really help me keep writing! If there's anything you'd like to see, I take requests/suggestions via comment. :)

Molly woke up because Toby was hungry and, like most cats, Toby tried to suffocate his owner when he was hungry. After pushing him off she rolled out of bed, sat there for several minutes thinking about how old she was, and then got up and sleep-shuffled to the kitchen, chattering at her sweet little Toby monster the whole way. She got him his food and then went to get herself human food, pausing when she saw a lump on the couch. Curious, she walked over, then jumped. “Sherlock?!”

He didn’t respond, quietly sleeping on the couch. His coat was on the hanger by the door, and he’d stolen a blanket from the cupboard to wrap himself in and, judging by the clothing draped over her kitchen chairs he was, in typical Sherlock fashion, stark naked underneath.

Molly, reasonably, didn’t quite know how to react. It _was_ Sherlock, but she didn’t expect breaking and entering until a little further than 6 months in the relationship. She looked down at Toby. “What do you think?”

“Meow.”

  
“Right. But he doesn’t drink. At least I don't think. Not since the stag party. That was weird.”

“Murrr.”

“Right, it’s for the best.” Deciding to let him sleep, Molly went on to make her coffee. She set his cup-black, two sugars-on the coffee table and paused before sitting on the table beside it. Didn’t take long for the smell to reach him and his eyes, bleary and blue and beautiful, slowly cracked open, blinking. Toby hopped up on the couch, walking where it ended and Sherlock began, until he was stood at his elbow. Sherlock looked towards him and blinked again.

“Greetings, Tobias.”

“Meow.”

Sherlock turned towards Molly and the morning scowl softened. “Hello, Molly.”

She finger waved back. “Hello, Sherlock.”

He sat up on his elbow, ruffled his hair and cracked his neck. “Heavens. You need to invest in a better couch.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why, so you’re more comfortable when you break into my house?”

“Of course.”

She couldn’t help but snort, rubbing her face. This was a major violation of her privacy and security-granted, neither much existed around Sherlock. Well, perhaps security to a certain measure, and privacy again to another. They existed, but in a different form, she decided. One that didn’t put crashing on her couch unannounced under the “violation” category. “Oh, _Sherlock_. What am I do to with you?”

“Is that rhetorical or are you up to suggestions?” He smiled cheekily over the brim of his coffee mug.

“Neither.”

“Aw. Do I get a say at least what facility I’m sent off too?”

“Maybe. Provided you reveal the stunning story that led you to do a B&E instead of sleeping on your own couch.”

He gained a hitherto unseen expression that Molly thought was rather cute: a sheepish smile. He ran a hand back through his curls, mussing them up in a way that had always distracted Molly whenever she was trying to do something productive. “Well, um. Funny thing, that…”

“Oh, is it?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Well. It wasn’t uh…I can’t even embellish it. I was at the Yard and, uhm, was working with Lestrade and John. John left early, sitter called out. Don’t ask _why_ but I was maybe covered in about two pints of blood.”

Molly stared. “You _don’t_ want to tell me?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“You get embarrassed?”

“Molly.”

“Right. Continue.”

“…So I’m covered in a couple of pints of blood and as you know the cabbies don’t like that-“

“Wait you tried to get in a cab covered in-“

“Wait, did I not tell you that? Was that John?” He furrowed his brow. “Oh no, that was John. Sometimes I mix up what I told who pre-relationship.”

“How can you mix us up?!”

“It doesn’t matter who I told about it, just that I said something.”

Molly, after a moments consideration, sort of shrugged at that.

“Anyway, so I would have just taken the tube but Lestrade said he’d put a towel down and give me a ride-pouring outside, absolute buckets. Well, on the way I mentioned his wife’s latest affair, he insisted she hadn’t, I said she had again, and he got angry and kicked me out of the car.”

“Literally, I’m guessing.”

“Oh yes.” He huffed. “What I get for trying to help. Either way I couldn’t see in the bloody rain, no idea where I was until I recognized the lamp at the corner and, statistically, my chances of getting a cold increased exponentially the longer I stayed in wet clothes and, well your house was closer to the tube station so I picked the lock, had a shower and just fell asleep on the nearest available piece of furniture.”

Molly blinked.

He looked up from his coffee. “I, well, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Molly blinked again. Then laughed. She stood up and kissed the top of his head, taking his empty mug on her walk back to the kitchen. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

 


End file.
